


Embrace the Part of Me That’s Just Like You

by Annide



Series: Febuwhump [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Murder, Season/Series 02, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29003025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annide/pseuds/Annide
Summary: After Malcolm tries to do something irreversible, Ainsley decides its time to take things into her own hands to help him.
Relationships: Ainsley Whitly & Martin Whitly, Malcolm Bright & Dani Powell
Series: Febuwhump [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2116785
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Embrace the Part of Me That’s Just Like You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Febuwhump day 2: "i can't take this anymore"

“I can’t take this anymore.”

“Yes, you can, Bright! Please, step back.”

Malcolm stood on the ledge, the wind up here on the roof ruffling through his hair. He stared down at the street, frozen in place, hesitant enough for Dani to feel some hope. His eyes were sunken with lack of sleep and a few lone tears dripped down, leaving a trace on his cheeks, or at least on the one she could see from where she stood, a few feet away on his right.

“It’s too much, it’s too big of a secret, and it’s eating me alive. I feel like I’m about to explode.” He put his hands on either side of his head and pulled at his hair. His despair had never been so visible. “Maybe I should, it would feel like such a relief.”

“No, it wouldn’t. It wouldn’t feel like anything, because you would be dead. Come on, just come down, we can talk about whatever it is over Earl Grey. You know I’ll always be here for you, right? You can tell me anything.”

“Not this. This isn’t a secret that can be shared. This is something I have to carry alone. I can’t even tell my therapist.”

“I know it feels like it now, but nothing is ever as bad as your mind makes it seem.”

“This is.”

“Did you talk about those feelings with your therapist?”

“I haven’t seen her since... I can’t see her anymore. How could I with something so big hanging over my head?”

He threw a look in her direction, long enough for her to discern the pain and sadness in his eyes, then he turned back to the street.

“Bright...”

“I’m sorry, Dani, I never meant to hurt you that way.”

Tears were spilling down her eyes and she let them. Normally, she’d be ashamed of them and she’d try to hide them, try to keep a strong front, but not now. She didn’t see the point. Somewhere inside she hoped her exposed vulnerability would tug at Malcolm’s heartstrings and convince him not to do this. Her voice faltered when she next spoke, the break loud in the quiet of the night.

“You don’t have to, please. Think of your mother, and your sister. They love you, and they need you.”

“I’m tired. All I do is try to do the right thing, always. I spend all my energy stopping killers, and doing my best to be there for my family when they need me. But what does that really accomplish? No one is any happier. Least of all me. I feel empty, Dani. Ever since... that night, all I feel is guilt and confusion. I thought I had a purpose, but what I did, it went against everything I believed in.” His hand shook, but he paid it no attention. “And my father, he... I’m exhausted, and I can’t take any of this anymore. I’ve tried for years, but it’s gotten to be more than I can handle.”

“Malcolm, please, let me share your load. Or let your sister, or mother, or Gil, or your therapist, anyone. Any of us would be willing to help, please, just let us.”

For a second, she thought she’d lost him. She thought this was the moment he’d jumped. And maybe she was right, maybe it was. But before he could, JT had wrapped his arms around him, forcibly pulling him back and well onto the safety of the roof. Malcolm struggled against him for a few seconds until it became obvious he didn’t stand a chance and gave up.

* * *

Ainsley stood in the cell that was slowly becoming familiar. She was enveloped by a strange sense of calm. The anger that had led her here in the first place was gone, replaced entirely by determination. She knew exactly why she’d come. Her mind was made up and there was no changing it.

Less than an hour ago she’d been sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs of the hospital’s waiting room. Her brother was sleeping, thanks to a powerful sedative. Her mother was next to her, sniffling into a tissue Gil had handed her, still crying after what felt like hours. She appeared so vulnerable and inconsolable in that moment, with one of Gil’s arms around her shoulders, and Ainsley holding her hands in hers.

Ainsley’s heart shattered as she listened to her mother saying how she didn’t know what to do anymore, that she was at a lost for new ways to help Malcolm. Ainsley wanted nothing more than to offer something, anything to help, but she couldn’t come up with anything. It filled her with rage how destroyed both her mother and her brother felt. She wished she could appease their pain somehow.

Then, she thought back to the source of all their troubles. To what had led them here. Martin Whitly. Without him, they might’ve been happy. They certainly wouldn’t have to endure so much pain. Malcolm wouldn’t have grown up with conflicted feelings between the father he knew and loved, and the monster he’d discovered he was. He may not have been bullied as severely, he wouldn’t have all these mental health issues and probably wouldn’t have had to kill Endicott to protect her. Ainsley couldn’t say anything, but she knew that was the event that had sent her brother down a spiral that made him end up here.

“Malcolm stood on a roof with the intention to kill himself tonight.”

Those were the first words she uttered since walking in here. Martin had greeted her enthusiastically, but his smile had faded when he’d noticed the grave expression on her face. Now, he stepped closer, as close to the line as the leash would allow him, shock and maybe even sadness and worry filling his eyes.

“Is he alright?”

She wondered if the concern in his voice was genuine or if his interest stemmed purely from his desire to control Malcolm and make him into a serial killer just like him.

“He wouldn’t be lying down, restrained on a hospital bed, if he was. He wouldn’t have tried to do this.”

“Yes, of course, I meant, did he hurt himself? Is he getting help?”

“That’s why I’m here.” His eyes lit up at that, always eager to insert himself into their lives, to feel as if they needed him. “I think I figured out a way to help him.”

“Tell me, I want to help him too.”

“It’s you. You need to be removed from his life entirely. Having you around, visiting you, it only ever seems to make things worse for him. It has to stop.”

Martin’s face fell momentarily, but he was quick to perk up again, an apologetic expression on his face.

“Oh, sweetheart, no. You’ve got it all wrong. It’s not having me in his life that’s the problem, it’s the distance he keeps between us. What he needs is to stop repressing the part of him that’s like me. He has to truly accept the darkness.”

The tone of his voice was unmistakeable. Martin truly believed what he was saying. She hadn’t needed convincing, her conviction that this was what she had to do was already strong, but if she had, this would’ve done it. She took a step closer to her father. He seemed surprised, but pleased.

“Thank you for being here, always ready to provide insight.”

“Ah, you’re welcome, sweetheart. Anything for my kids.”

Ainsley smiled and he did the same. She walked even closer. She thought if she were shaking, it would sell the worried and distraught façade she was trying to convey much better, but she was perfectly still, and confident. As though she wasn’t about to do something that would entirely derail her life.

“I’ve decided to embrace the part of me that’s just like you.”

Confusion started settling over Martin’s face, but before he could connect the dots, she stabbed him with the ceramic knife she’d brought.

“Ainsley?”

He sounded shocked and taken aback. She stabbed him again before it wore off enough for him to stop her. He tried to fight her off, but she stabbed him again and again until he finally fell to the ground. Silent, his eyes still open and staring off into space. She squatted down over him. He grabbed her wrist as she went to close his eyes.

“I’m so proud of you, Ainsley.”

He could barely get the words out. His breathing was quickly becoming too shallow. His hand fell off and she watched as the light exited his eyes. He was gone. She closed his eyes and stood back up. A breath she didn’t know she was holding escaped her lips. She’d done it. Martin Whitly would never trouble them again.

As Ainsley looked down at all of the blood on her hands, on the floor, on her father, the familiarity struck her. She was hit with a wave of memories she’d lost. This wasn’t the first murder she’d committed.


End file.
